Burn the Ships
by ScarredNotBroken
Summary: All in all, this mission could have ended a lot worse than spending Christmas with Hawaii's elite task force.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Aaaaaand I'm back with another story no one asked for! ...Well, I guess that's not _completely _true. I wrote a blurb and two people on tumblr asked for more so here we are, lol.

I don't have a specific season in mind for this to be set during, but it's somewhere in 5-7.5 because I love Chin and Kono and Max but also Lou and Jerry, so there's that. Also disregards _Never Say Die _for reasons that will be obvious in chapter three, haha.

_Cross-posted to my tumblr sojourner-between-worlds._

* * *

**Chapter One**

Standing in an interrogation room with a soggy teenaged boy handcuffed to the chair was definitely not how Steve had anticipated spending his Christmas Eve, but, he supposed, there probably _were_ worse places he could be right now.

A little before five that morning, a boat had exploded just off the coast. The Coast Guard had responded immediately, spotting said teen swimming away from the wreck. There had been no other survivors, and when HPD couldn't get him to talk, they'd called Five-0 in, hoping Steve would have more luck.

Steve sighed. He'd been here for a half-hour already and had gotten nowhere. The kid was staring passively at his bare feet and resolutely ignoring Steve.

"You know you're not actually in trouble right now, right? I mean, the only reason you're handcuffed is because you almost knocked out a member of the Coast Guard, and we can write that off as momentary panic. The only reason you're stuck here with me is because you won't talk to anyone. You're the only one who knows what happened out there, so just tell me and then both of us can get out of here. It's Christmas Eve, after all. There's gotta be somewhere you'd rather be. Me, personally? I'm supposed to be helping my partner, Detective Williams, get his house ready for our annual Christmas party. I need to pick up a few last-minute things from the store, then head over to start setting up by myself until he and his daughter get done with this beach clean-up thing they do every year. Between you and me, he's not gonna be a happy camper if he gets there before I do. So if you could help me out, that'd be really great actually."

Stone-cold silence descended over the room again. Steve let it sit for only a moment before he spoke again, tone bordering on exasperated.

"Okay, kid. What's it gonna take, huh? Name it. What will it take for you to just tell me what happened?"

The teenager shifted in his chair, handcuffs clanking lightly against the metal chair. When he spoke, his voice was eerily calm and cold. "I don't talk to cops."

The kid's heavy British accent didn't escape Steve, but he was willing to set that aside for the moment. "Well, that's perfect, then. I'm not a cop - never went to the academy, myself; I got my training as a Navy SEAL. So tell me what happened."

Steve knew he finally had the teen's attention when his head snapped up, finally meeting his gaze. He didn't trust cops, but he trusted the military, maybe? Steve couldn't be sure, but if it got the kid talking, that's all he really cared about at the moment.

He frowned. "You still have a badge, though."

"Yeah, well, the Five-0 task force still isn't strictly _police._ We operate a little differently." Steve paused. "Look, if you're worried about who you can trust, I'm promising you right now that you can trust me, okay?"

"Words mean nothing."

"No, you're right, but I have over ten years of active service in the Navy, six of those as a SEAL, that show I can be."

Silence weighed heavily over them again, but this time Steve let it. He had to wait it out now, let the kid have time to decide if could trust him or not. If he decided not to - well, there was nothing else Steve could do about that.

Several long minutes passed before the teen's quiet voice filled the vacant space. "It _maybe_ wasn't entirely an accident. I _may _ have rigged an explosive near the fuel tank and jumped overboard before it detonated."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "I couldn't let it get to port."

"Okay. How come?"

"You wouldn't believe how many kilos of illegal narcotics they had. I don't know exactly what it was, just that it was something new - something highly addictive. I wasn't about to let it get here. That's all."

"And you wouldn't just call it in because you don't trust cops, right?"

"Yeah. Heard them talking about an 'inside man'. Can't say if they meant in HPD or not, but…" He shrugged. "Better safe than sorry."

"Right." Steve paused. "Okay, so here's the million-dollar question, then: what were _you _doing on that boat? You obviously weren't working for them since you kind of sunk their product to the bottom of the Pacific."

"Yeah, well -" he breathed a shaky sigh - "that's a very long and unpleasant story, and I believe you said you had somewhere to be, so…"

At that moment, Steve's phone vibrated in his pocket. Seeing the caller ID, he didn't hesitate to answer. "Max. What have you got?" He listened intently for a moment as his friend and colleague filled him in on the identities of the bodies pulled from the wreckage before hanging up and turning back to the kid. "That was our chief medical examiner. He got hits on the IDs of the other two bodies from the boat. Turns out they've got pretty deep ties in the underworld, so I can't say I'm sorry you took them out to be honest."

"Wait, wait - _two _bodies?"

"Yeah, why?"

He shook his head, face paling. "No, that's wrong. There were five of us on that boat."

"So you're telling me that two more potentially got away somehow?"

"Yes. Since the bodies haven't been recovered already, I can practically guarantee they're still alive somewhere. And there's another thing: those drugs were sealed air-tight. So if they got away, it's possible they got away _with _at least some of their product."

_There goes Christmas Eve,_ Steve thought as he pulled his phone back out to call his team in.

~! #$%^&*()_~! #$%^&*()_+

"Alright, let's go. Let's stop this thing hopefully before it starts."

As the rest of the team split off to their duties, Steve stayed standing at the holotable, watching as Jerry pulled open the door and made his way over.

"You wanted to see me?"

"Yeah. Thanks for coming in. I've, uh, got a job for you, but I'd prefer it if you would keep this quiet for now."

"Of course. What's up?"

"I need you to run a name for me, through missing persons and maybe TSA - see if you get a hit on a passport possibly. Unfortunately, all I've got for you is a first name - Alex - and a description." He took a folded sheet of paper from his pocket and set it on the table between them. "Find out as much as you can, please."

Jerry picked up the page and glanced down at the scrawling handwriting. "Can I ask what your interest is? I mean, I thought you caught a case, and this seems irrelevant?"

"It's not entirely. This kid is the reason we're working today at all. Something just… doesn't seem right. There's definitely more to this than what he's told me - granted, he hasn't said much at all, but…" He paused. "I just have this gut feeling I'm not going to like what you find."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **So honestly I wasn't expecting anyone to actually take an interest in this because it's such a niche category, but I've got four of ya'll on here and another four on tumblr, so I'm just kinda sitting here like, "cool cool that's cool" while I am not actually being cool at all, lol. ANYWAY. On with the story! XD

* * *

**Chapter Two**

Alex was _bored._ But, he conceded, at least he wasn't still handcuffed in a frigid interrogation room. _And_ he finally had dry clothes, albeit they were a little big. They belonged to Commander McGarrett and when the man had offered, Alex hadn't asked why he kept extra clothes in his truck; he was just glad to be _dry_ again.

But, as it was, there was only so much time he could spend reading the award plaques on the walls and looking at the model battleships before there was nothing left to do. He didn't dare leave the office, either. Commander McGarrett had deposited him there and, in no uncertain terms, had told him to stay put or he'd find himself back in handcuffs again.

Alex figured he really could leave if he felt like it - there was only one guy left up here, and he knew he could easily take him out - but he honestly didn't want to. He hadn't wanted to come to Hawaii in the first place, so handing off his mission to Five-0 was kind of… _nice._

On the other hand, it should have been over hours ago, and he should be on a plane back to DC right now. He had no one to blame but himself for those two guys getting away. Maybe if the Coast Guard hadn't been so preoccupied trying to rangle _him_ out of the water, they would have seen the other two swimming in the opposite direction. He had completely dropped the ball on this one. If he was lucky, maybe that would mean they'd be done with him. After all, he couldn't even finish since he was stuck in the Five-0 headquarters for the foreseeable future.

He scoffed to himself at the thought. _Yeah, right. They won't be done with me until I'm dead._

The sound of the door swishing open caught his attention, and he lifted his head from the couch cushion to see Commander McGarrett leaning through the doorway.

"Just thought I'd let you know that we've caught a lead, so I'm headed out to meet up with the rest of my team. You -" he pointed one finger at Alex, brow raised - "are still not to leave this office, got it? Jerry is staying here, and he may not look it, but you won't get far past him."

_If Jerry is the big guy at the holotable, that's definitely a bluff,_ Alex thought, sitting up all the way. "Take me with you."

"_No._ Not gonna happen."

"I know several martial arts, so I could easily leave if I wanted to, and -."

"And - what? You don't even know where I'm going."

Alex paused, glancing away for only a moment. "Look, I need to see this through. Please." He may not want to be here, but he also couldn't afford to let this fail. He had to finish his mission - no matter what.

McGarrett was silent for a moment before he sighed and said, "Under one condition."

"Name it."

"You stay in the truck. No matter what happens, you _do not _get out. You understand me?"

"Yes." _Not a chance._

"Then let's go."

* * *

The house they were going to was in a wooded area on the edge of Manoa. Police were already on the scene; Commander McGarrett parked - what felt like to Alex to be - at the very farthest point back, behind all the other vehicles, down the road from the house they would be raiding.

As soon as he cut the engine, McGarrett turned to him and said, "Remember our deal: you do not leave this vehicle."

"Promise."

The man nodded, hopped out of the truck, and disappeared behind the rest of the vehicles barricading the street.

From where the truck was parked, Alex couldn't see much of anything. Thumping his head back against the headrest with a defeated sigh, he realized the commander had parked here on purpose. If he couldn't see anything, he'd be less inclined to get involved. Theoretically, anyway.

Alex lasted a whole five minutes. He wasn't used to other people doing his job, and he was going stir crazy waiting. _As long as I'm back in the truck before he is, then he'll never know,_ he thought as he unbuckled his seatbelt and quietly slipped out the door. Staying low and close to the other vehicles, he cautiously crept forward.

Crouched behind a police cruiser, he peeked out just in time to see Five-0 moving in on the house. A moment later, shots echoed through the air. A moment after that, Alex spotted a figure running for the woods with no one in pursuit. Before Alex could process that what he was going to do was probably stupid and definitely reckless, he was already sprinting in the same general direction the man had disappeared in.

He didn't get far, however; the man was nowhere to be seen, and Alex didn't think getting lost in the forest trying to track him down was probably a good idea. Disappointed, he turned and started back the way he'd come. He almost made it back undetected, but his luck ran out as he neared the truck and spotted McGarrett and another man (he looked to be a native Islander) standing between him and his destination. Quickly, he ducked behind the nearest car before they could see him.

"Steve, calm down. He might have just gotten antsy sitting around. I'm sure he's not far."

"I knew this was a bad idea, Chin. I'm handcuffing him to my desk when we get back - if we can even find him."

"You think he's in on it somehow?"

"I don't _want _to think that, but right now he's missing and if we can't find him, I'm gonna have to assume so."

Alex sighed and, bracing himself for the lecture he was sure he was in for, stood up and started over towards the truck.

The other man - Chin? - spotted him first. "Steve."

McGarrett spun around, and the look on his face said it all. His expression morphed from concern to anger in the blink of an eye, and Alex had to admit he wished he'd stayed in the truck after all. No one had looked at him like that since _Jack._

And then Commander McGarrett exploded. "Just _what _were you thinking? I told you to stay put, did I not? And _you promised _that you would. What if you have gotten hurt, huh? _What were you thinking?"_

Alex took a deep breath, trying to stay calm, reminding himself that these people had no idea who he was. "There was a guy getting away -."

"And you thought it was a good idea to go after him, is that it? _You could have gotten shot, _do you understand that?"

"You don't understand! You can't expect me to just sit by and do nothing!"

"Actually, yeah, I can. Because you are _a child,_ Alex. You shouldn't be involved in this at all. Besides that, you _did_ already do something - you did exactly what you needed to: you told me, and we are _handling it_ \- just like I said we would -."

"Oh, yeah, totally," Alex snapped. "That's why one of them _got away!"_

"Steve," Chin spoke quietly from behind, placing a hand on the commander's shoulder.

McGarrett spun around. "What?" he snapped.

"Go see what Max can tell us about these guys."

"Excuse me?"

"I'll keep an eye on him." Chin nodded in the direction of the house. "Go."

McGarrett sighed, sharing a look with the other man before he snapped, "Fine." and stalked away.

Chin sighed, turning back to Alex with a small smile. "He cares a lot more than it might seem. He's not really angry with you; he was just pretty worried when he came back to find you gone. I'm Lieutenant Chin Ho Kelly, by the way."

Alex turned away. "Look, I'm sorry I worried him or whatever, but that guy got away, and all of you let him."

Lieutenant Kelly nodded. "Yeah, we had to. When the DEA found out where we were headed, they warned us ahead of time that that particular man might be here. When we got inside and saw him - Alex, he's an undercover agent for the DEA. We had to let him 'get away' to keep his cover. Apparently the DEA has been onto them for quite awhile, and with some time, they'll be able to turn this thing inside out - in less time now that we're on it too - but they need to keep him _out there_ in order to do so."

"I guess these guys aren't as good as they thought," Alex scoffed.

Lieutenant Kelly chuckled. "I guess not." He paused for a second. "Hey, uh, do me a favor? Steve means well, so just try not to antagonize him too much? If you had gotten hurt, he'd be blaming himself for it right now. I know you want to help, but the best thing you can do is listen to Steve and do what he asks. Even if you don't trust anyone else, you can trust him. He knows what he's doing. Okay?"

"I'll… try."

"Good enough." He turned as a woman approached. "Hey, Kono." He turned back to Alex. "This is Officer Kono Kalakaua, also of the Five-0 task force."

"Hi, Alex. Steve sent me over to see if you can identify these guys as the ones from the boat." She flipped a tablet around so he could see the screen. "Either of them look familiar to you?"

He examined the photos for a minute before shaking his head. "The one on the right was, but I don't recognize the other one."

"Alright." She swiped the screen. "How about this guy?"

Alex shook his head again. "Nope. Is that the guy who got away?"

"The DEA's inside man, yeah." She flipped the tablet back around. "I'll let Steve know. Thanks, Alex."

"So I guess that means we've still got one out there from this morning," Lieutenant Kelly commented as Officer Kalakaua walked away.

"Yeah," Alex murmured, "and this is just one small part, anyway."

"What do you mean?"

"From what I could gather, it's a pretty extensive network. I don't know anything about the rest of it though - just what I already told Commander McGarrett."

"Hm. Tell you what," Lieutenant Kelly started, pushing off from where he'd been leaning against the truck, "why don't you and I grab some lunch and head back to the Palace? There's no reason for you to stick around here, and I promised Steve I'd keep an eye on you anyway, right?"

Alex shrugged. "Sure, I guess."

"Alright. My car's over there. I'll text Steve so he knows and, maybe by the time he gets there, he'll have cooled off a little bit."

"I sure hope so. Honestly, he's a bit terrifying when he's angry."

Lieutenant Kelly chuckled. "That he is, Alex; that he is."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **This one is somehow twice as long as the first two, but hey...it was..sort of necessary, haha.

I also feel I should mention that it's, like, 1:30 in the afternoon by this point in the story, and it was, like, just after 7:00 in the morning when Steve tasked Jerry with this, so he's had plenty of time to put all of this together. :P

**To any UK readers:** It came to my attention while writing this chapter that Alex's alias in _Scorpia Rising_ is different between the UK and US editions. The UK edition has it as Alex Brenner, while the US edition has it as Alex Tanner. _Why_ they felt that was a necessary change, I'll never know, but it is what it is. Being American myself, I stuck with the US edition's alias for this chapter.

* * *

**Chapter Three**

Steve took a deep breath as he stepped out of the elevator. He needed to find Alex; they had to talk about what happened, and he wanted to apologize for flying off the handle. When he'd gone back to the truck to find the kid gone, he'd _panicked._ His worry had manifested as anger, and he needed to make that right. But he also had to get Alex to understand that it wasn't okay to put himself in harm's way like that.

Rounding the corner, he pushed through the door into HQ and headed for Chin's office. He paused outside the door; Alex's back was to him, and Chin was focused on whatever he was saying, a smile on his lips. They were apparently getting on very well, and Steve was loathe to interrupt that, but all the same, he knew he'd have to eventually.

"Steve?"

He turned his head to find Jerry staring at him, leaning against the holotable. Ah, yes; the other reason he'd come back to the Palace. "Yeah, you get something?"

Jerry hesitated. "Yeah, and you were right that you probably weren't going to like it."

Steve sighed as he approached. "Alright. Let's have it."

"For the record, this is one conspiracy theory I'd hoped I would never prove."

"Conspiracy theory?" He raised an eyebrow. Sure, they'd proved a couple of his theories true, and Jerry had certainly been helpful in numerous cases, but Steve wasn't ready for him to reduce this kid to that just yet.

"Also for the record, it didn't start out that way," Jerry tacked on quickly.

Steve crossed his arms over his chest. "Fair enough. What'd you find?"

"Okay, well, I took the liberty of pulling security footage for the Place to get a photo to help, and then I ran him through missing persons like you asked. No hits. I thought at best, no one filed a report, and at worst, no one even noticed he was missing. Working under the assumption that he's possibly in the foster care system, group homes are notoriously understaffed, after all, so either one would be plausible.

"Anyway, when I didn't get a hit there, I moved on to the DOT. Interestingly enough, no hits there either - not even a learners' permit even though he told you he's fifteen. But, again, not really unprecedented if he's in the system.

"Next, I ran him through the UK's database as well as the Department of State's database to see if he has - or ever _had _\- a passport. He had to get into the country somehow, after all. Now, brace yourself, because this is where it starts to get weird." Jerry brought up a file on the holotable and flicked a set of images up on the screen. "Between the UK and here, I got a grand total of five separate passports."

"And you're _sure_ they're all the same person?"

"Facial rec confirmed it. These all belong to the same person."

"So what are you telling me, Jerry? That this teenager has forged documents?"

"If they're forges, they're incredibly good as they all appear to be standard government issue."

Steve took in the documents more thoroughly: British issues to Alex Rider, Alex Friend, and Alex Tanner; American issues to Alex Gardiner and...Alex Rider? "Wait - there are two issued to the same person."

"Right you are. I'll come back to the whole 'multiple passports' thing later, but that was the lead I followed first, so. The British-issued one is the one that's been used the most frequently and was invalidated this past July - the same time the American one was issued. As it turns out -" Jerry swiped an image up on the screen of two sets of legal forms - "he was also granted citizenship at that same time. Coincidentally - or not so much - that _also_ happens to be when he was adopted by Edward and Elizabeth Pleasure of San Francisco, who are also former residents of England. According to the forward of his book on Damien Cray, they moved there after Mr. Pleasure was badly injured while on vacation with his family in the South of France. He also revealed that that attack was the result of the research he was doing on Cray. He moved his family to California for a fresh start shortly thereafter."

"Okay, well that makes sense then. Did you reach out to them?"

"I would have, but that's impossible." Jerry pulled up a news article from September 17th, the black letters in sharp contrast to the white background: _Three Killed in Car Bombing: Journalist Edward Pleasure and wife among the casualties. _"Turns out they had a daughter as well, but she wasn't with them; the third casualty was a by-stander. According to social services, she went back to England to live with an aunt and uncle, but Alex went into the system. He was in and out of foster homes, never staying in one place too long, until early November when he was sent to a group home in Sacramento. He was only there for about a week, though, before _this _guy -" he brought up a photo of a man with dark hair and darker eyes - "showed up. Supposedly he's still in this guy's custody."

"Possibly human trafficking?"

"Central Intelligence Agency, actually. His name is James Branning. Fifteen years of service to the CIA. Lives and works out of DC."

"So - what? They come out here for vacation and Alex somehow gets caught up in drug trafficking? I don't buy it. Not to mention, what was this guy's interest that he went all the way across the country just to foster a kid?"

"I agree with you, and I'm getting there. I _did _say there's a conspiracy theory here, remember."

"Right." Steve gestured towards him with one hand. "Please, continue."

"I ran those names against the flight manifests for all inbound flights from the DC area from November through yesterday. Surprise, surprise, I got no hits on either name. On a hunch, I ran Alex's aliases through as well, and while there is no record of Alex _Rider_ coming to Hawaii, there is an Alex _Gardiner _who arrived through Kahului Airport on Maui on December second. I pulled airport security footage for that day and found this." Jerry brought up a still shot from said footage of Alex walking along next to a man who was clearly James Branning. "Branning came onto the island under the alias Mike Wingert, and given that they both traveled under an alias, I don't think either of them were here just for a vacation."

"Whoa, hold up, Jerry," Steve interrupted, holding up a hand. "Are you trying to tell me that Alex is working for the CIA? Because you _are_ aware of how crazy that sounds, right?"

"I know - I do know how it sounds, but it all adds up. Look, I started off saying that I never wanted to prove this right, but… the teen spy out of MI6 has always been _the most _credible conspiracy theory out there for one simple reason: anything and everything relating to this disappears from the Internet within hours - even on the dark web. You can talk about JFK and Area 51 and everything else you want, but not the teen spy from MI6 because it'll disappear. Everything I had on this prior to today was from a few dedicated individuals willing to ship FedEx. I know it _sounds_ crazy, but I honestly don't think it is - especially now."

Steve sighed. He had to admit it was brilliant even if terribly unethical. No one would ever suspect a kid, after all. Part of him didn't want to hear any more of what Jerry knew, but in the end, he said, "Okay. Help me understand it then. Tell me everything you've got on this prior to his arrival in the US."

"Well, I won't bother with _everything," _Jerry admitted. "A lot of it is still just conjecture, but I will tell you about the stuff that's most relevant." He paused bringing out a newspaper clipping from a folder sat on the edge of the table. The photo was blurry but showed a person dangling from a parachute through the roof of the science museum in London. "This is where it all started. An unidentified individual broke through the skylight and shot both the Prime Minister and Herod Sayle."

"I remember hearing about that. There was never a formal press release of any kind about what _actually_ happened. There was speculation it was a terrorist group, but no one ever took credit for it."

"And the high-tech Stormbreaker computers never launched. To this day, no one knows why."

Steve frowned. "Okay, but why is this attributed to some 'teen spy'?"

"Eyewitnesses. I mean, MI6 tried to tamp down on it obviously, but…" Jerry shrugged. "No one could confirm without a doubt that it was a kid but, like I said before, all the chatter disappeared within hours. We all knew then that clearly we were on to something or they wouldn't be trying so hard to cover up any mention of it. So we all kept our eyes and ears open for anything else in the news that could prove our theory."

Jerry pulled all of Alex's alias passports up on the screen again as he continued. "All of these passports have something in common: they've all only been used once. That by itself is strange because there's record of them leaving England - or, in one instance, America instead - but never returning. On top of that, the dates they were used all line up with major events that myself and my fellow theorists previously attributed to the Teen Spy. For example, Point Blanc Academy in the French Alps. It was exposed as being a cover for experimental cloning within weeks of Alex _Friend's_ arrival in France.

"And, according to his _real _passport, Alex was in France with the Pleasures when Edward was injured when their vacation rental exploded. Not too long after that, Damien Cray - the very man he was researching and whom he himself revealed was the reason for the attack - is killed in England aboard Air Force One while the president is having tea with the queen. Seems a bit too coincidental to me.

"Moving on from that -" he pulled out yet another newspaper clipping - "we have the first ever space hotel - the Arc Angel - that explodes in orbit before its completion. You wanna know who entered the US right before that happened _with_ the guy who was funding that project? Alex Rider. And the next place he pops up is Australia only days after that - only days after a pod is seen entering orbit immediately after the Arc Angel was decimated. Based on trajectory, that pod was estimated to set down somewhere in the Pacific. On top of that, I don't know what he was doing there, but he didn't get back to England for almost a month."

"Gotta be honest, Jerry," Steve cut in with a sigh. "Right now all I'm hearing is that this kid is well-travelled. Outside of the multiple passports that may _or may not_ actually be his, you've got nothin' solid."

Jerry nodded once. "Yeah, I'll give ya that, but this last one is a doozie, so hold onto your hat, Commander." He pulled out another article, this one from only six months before.

"Back in July, the American Secretary of State traveled to Cairo, Egypt, to give a speech on education but never got to finish it because halfway through shots were fired inside the venue. But it didn't stop there, and the firefight continued outside, in the midst of a traffic-jammed street. The only reason we know this is because of amauter phone camera footage taken from one of the cars. Thanks to my connections, I am one of the few people who has that footage. It was uploaded to YouTube but, just like everything else, was quickly removed. Before it was taken down, one particular person had the presence of mind to download it, so here we are."

Jerry connected a USB drive to the table's system and played the short video. It was unfocused - the person recording jumping at every gunshot - and blurry from the evident torrential rain, but the person crouched behind a car and firing at someone off-frame was unmistakably Alex. He turned from his cover and ran, dodging between stalled cars as the rain continued to pound down, and a second later, the person pursuing him appeared as he rushed passed the car.

Steve felt his jaw drop. "What the…"

"My thoughts exactly," Jerry continued as he disconnected the drive. "Remember how I mentioned he could have been involved with Point Blanc Academy? What if Dr. Grief had actually been _successful _in his attempts at cloning?"

"Because I currently don't have a better explanation of..._that, _let's just say that's true. Why? Why would this supposed clone go after the American Secretary of State?"

"Because if Alex really was working for MI6 and someone pinned that assination on him _and _could _prove_ he was working for MI6 at the time of the assination -."

"It would have torn relations between us apart."

"Exactly. I think the whole thing was a set up from the start."

"I don't know, Jerry -."

"Don't make a judgment call just yet. I have more you need to see."

Steve rubbed wearily at the back of his neck. "Alright. Continue, then."

"In all the hub-bub surrounding the failed assassination, most people would have overlooked this much smaller article that appeared in the same issue." Jerry took out a small article from the folder, the headline reading _American Killed near Siwa - Local authorities still investigating._ "Apparently the vehicle exploded, killing the woman driving instantly. We were never sure how exactly these two events were connected, but we were sure they were, so I thought it worth looking into further. I ran the name from the article, and it came up empty, but I thought if Alex was there under an alias - which he was, by the way, under Alex _Tanner _\- then, if it's connected, maybe this woman was too. So I looked for obituaries with the same date of death and found just one that fit the bill." He put it up on the screen. "Meet the late Jack Starbright. According to the obituary, her parents are still alive and well living in DC, so I took the liberty of reaching out to them since there's not much info here to work with. It took a bit of persuading, but they eventually told me about their late daughter.

"She went to London not quite ten years ago to study Law. In order to help make ends meet, she started looking for a job she'd be able to manage around her studies. She ended up answering an ad for a sort of live-in nanny-type thing. It was absolutely ideal because not only was it within a reasonable distance from campus, but room and board were provided and expenses covered on top of a modest paycheck. The man who offered her the position said he had to travel a lot for the bank he worked for and he needed someone to look after his nephew when he was away. That man was Ian Rider, and his nephew was Alex Rider.

"They went on to tell me that even after she finished her degree, she stayed at the Rider's. She spoke very highly of them both, and Alex is the reason she never moved back to the States. When Ian died almost two years ago, that was just more incentive for her to stay so Alex wouldn't be left alone.

"But here's the kicker: I dug into it a little more after I hung up with them and found that, during that time between completing her degree and Ian's death, her visa lapsed and wasn't renewed until almost a month after Ian's passing. On top of that, when it finally _was _renewed, it was permanent."

"That doesn't make any sense. If her visa expired, that means she was there illegally. They would have prosecuted her instead of granting a new one - much less a permanent one."

"And this is where my new and improved theory comes in."

"I'm all ears, Jerry."

"I don't think Ian Rider was a banker like he claimed. I think he was a spy, too. He wasn't killed in a car accident as his obituary states; he was killed on the job. The day he died and the day Alex parachuted through the skylight are barely a month apart. Based on that, I think whatever happened with those Stormbreaker computers is what got Ian killed, and his death is the reason Alex got involved. Moreover, they convinced him to do it by offering Jack a permanent visa rather prosecuting her. The visa situation had been previously overlooked because, of course, Ian knew the right people through his employer, so they just looked the other way until it was convenient not to. Alex, then, proved so useful that they kept finding ways to convince him to work for them.

"Then Cairo happened. Jack went with him for whatever reason and ended up dead. Between that and fighting someone with your face, the end result was probably pretty traumatic. Maybe they realized how unethical they were being, but more likely they realized he wouldn't be bouncing back from that experience any time soon and decided it was better to let him go. Enter the Pleasures who offer to adopt him and give him a fresh start out in California. But then that goes sour, and he ends up in the system instead.

"Because he had an American alias prior to this, it's possible that he had also worked for the CIA previously, so when he went into the system, they saw that as an opportunity. They sent an agent to take legal custody of him, and that brings us all the way up to this morning when the Coast Guard fished him out of the bay."

Steve leaned back against the holotable, silent for a moment as he tried to process the last twenty minutes. "I gotta admit, that was a wild ride from start to finish."

"Then you don't think it's true."

"When we first met, yeah, I probably wouldn't have bought a word of it. Now…" Steve trailed off with a sigh. "Now, I don't know. It all sounds pretty crazy, but I feel like dealing with the crazy is kinda part of the job description at this point." Steve pushed off the table and started back for Chin's office.

"So what are you gonna do?"

Without missing a beat, Steve replied, "I'm gonna go find out the truth."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: ** Oh, look at that angst go...

((I threw in a random Hawaiian word in this chapter, but let's be honest: if you've watched _Five-0_ for any amount of time, you know that _mahalo_ is 'thank you' and that Steve uses the Hawaiian in equal amounts as the English, so it just felt weird to _not _use it with him, tbh. ...and if you didn't know that, well, I just told you, lol.))

**Content warning: ** I never intended to write anything super dark or anything for this story, and this chapter really isn't? but due to the nature of it, I thought I should warn ya'll anyway because Alex's trauma is pretty evident all the way through, and, as such, some heavier topics are discussed/mentioned including _talk of death (not suicide-related), self-depreciation, abuse, _and mentions of _panic attacks._

* * *

**Chapter Four**

Steve didn't pause outside this time; he pushed open the door, immediately catching the attention of both Chin and Alex. He schooled his face to not give anything away, and spoke gently. "Hey. Chin, thank you for getting him lunch and bringing him back here. Alex, we need to talk, okay?"

Alex looked back down at the floor. "I'm sorry. I should have stayed in the truck."

"No, that's - uh - that's partly on me. I shouldn't have brought you along in the first place, but what's done is done. I'm sorry for putting you in that position in the first place, and I apologize for yelling earlier. Regardless of how I felt, it was wrong of me to lose my temper."

"You had more right to be angry than I had to break my promise."

Steve sighed. Alex was determined to justify Steve's actions while condemning his own, wasn't he? "Well, let's just call it even and move on, shall we?"

"Sure."

"Okay. Great." He paused; Alex was still avoiding looking at him while he'd been fine with just Chin moments before. He had definitely messed up, but there was nothing to be done now except move forward. "But we do still need to talk - not about what happened, but there are some other things. So, let's go back to my office."

Chin stood up, Alex following suit. "I'll see if I can catch up with Kono, unless you need me for something?"

"No, go ahead. Last I knew she was headed for the crime lab, so she might still be there. _Mahalo,_ brother."

"Any time. See you later, Alex." Chin stepped around where Steve was still standing in the doorway and headed out.

Alex followed after him but turned the opposite direction - _still _avoiding looking anywhere but the floor, Steve noticed.

As they passed through the main area, Steve noticed Jerry had already left, everything wiped from the screens, and he made a mental note to text the man later to thank him for all his hard work.

They stepped into his office, and Alex sat down in one of the chairs in front of his desk. Steve sat next to him rather than behind it; if everything Jerry had said was true, he didn't want this conversation to feel like an interrogation. He wasn't looking forward to dredging up this kid's potentially traumatic past, but asking him directly was the only way to really get a solid answer.

Steve took a deep breath and started softly, "I - uh, I took the liberty of having Jerry look into you a little bit more. You weren't exactly very chatty this morning, and I wanted to find out if there was someone we could contact for you. We found someone, obviously, but… we found a lot _more_ than just that." Steve paused, trying to gauge his reaction, but there wasn't one. Alex kept his gaze locked on the floorboards, expression passive. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, trying in vain to catch Alex's gaze. "What I'm trying to say, Alex, is that I know everything, okay? I know you worked for MI6 after your uncle died, and I know you're here in Hawaii on a job for the CIA."

"You don't know anything."

"Am I wrong then?"

Silence, then a whispered "no."

Steve felt like the rug had been pulled from under his feet at the confession. Part of him had been hoping Alex would deny the whole thing, call it crazy, and they could laugh and move on. But another part had known that hope had been a pipedream.

Alex opened his mouth as if to say more but closed it again, swallowed visibly, and kept silent instead.

"Look, you don't have to talk about it, okay? I'm not asking so I can pry or bring up painful memories. I'm just trying to understand." He paused. "Just tell me one thing: when they came to you this time, why didn't you say no?"

Alex shrugged. "Didn't really give me a choice. I didn't know Branning was CIA until we got to DC. Took me from the airport straight to his boss." He swallowed visibly again. "If I'd said no -" a pained smile turned the corners of his mouth - "I'd have been sent straight back to some group home where no one actually cares. Too messed up for anywhere else."

Steve was speechless. What had this kid been through in the last few months to feel that way?

Alex continued on, voice less steady than if had been. "A lot of people are dead because of me, you know. Mostly 'bad guys,' yeah, but that doesn't change anything. That's still on me. Those two this morning - they weren't supposed to die. I just wanted to sink the boat. I knew they'd get away with some of it, but I thought if I could catch up to them on land, I could still stop it. Guess I really messed _that_ up didn't I? And those deaths - all of them just keep adding up to equal nightmares and panic attacks, and it's no wonder no one wants to deal with me when _I_ don't want to deal with me, either.

"So when Branning showed up, I didn't ask questions; I just hoped it would last longer than the others. When I found out why he wanted me - well, it just made sense."

Steve could feel his heart cracking already, but he pressed on anyway, keeping his voice low and gentle. "Can I ask why the others didn't work out?" _And why you felt like you had no choice because of that?_

Alex turned his head towards the window, and Steve didn't miss that his eyes were misty. "Most of them were fine - better than fine, even. But, like I said, none of them wanted to deal with me."

"With panic attacks and nightmares you mean? Couldn't have been _that_ great then, if you ask me."

Alex snorted. "Maybe. But they were nice enough, at least."

Steve thought for a moment. "You said that _most_ of them were good. Were there ones that weren't?" _This kid had already been through enough; please don't tell me adults meant to _help_ him made it worse._

Alex shrugged. "There was one...he was a cop. No one would listen to me, so I ran. Not much else to say."

Steve swallowed harshly, trying not to let worst-case scenarios take over his thinking. "Alex. What did he do to you?"

He was quiet for a moment before he said, "He was abusive. I tried to report it at school, but…'troubled kid in the system' and all that, so they just brushed it off as attention-seeking."

"I see. Is that the real reason why you wouldn't talk to anyone at HPD?"

"Part of it, yeah. I've never really had a good experience where cops are involved."

"Why did you decide to talk to me?"

A strained smile pulled at his lips. "Because people in the military are the only ones who have never let me down."

_How many people have let you down, Alex? How many people who were meant to protect you have failed?_ "Just one more question: do you actually _want_ to keep doing this? Do you want to keep working for the CIA?"

Alex turned from the window but only to stare back down at where his hands rested in fists against his knees. "I never wanted this but - Commander, do you believe in fate? Because this is mine. Every road leads back to this. I don't have a choice."

"You always have a choice, Alex."

"Yeah," he scoffed. "I used to think that, too. Time has proven otherwise."

"If you don't want to keep doing this, then let me help you. I know people. We can get you out -."

"So I can go back to a group home? No, thanks."

"Alex -."

"_I said no._ So drop it," he spat.

Steve was taken aback by the sudden change in his tone. "Why not? Why don't you want me to help you?"

"I _told you._ It's no use. Every time I think I'm out, I get sucked back in. There is no _getting out._ No matter what you do, I'll end up back here all the same. I've had several chances, but _I can't!" _His voice had slowly gotten louder, shakier, and more desperate until the final word when his jaw had snapped shut with an almost audible clack.

Steve didn't miss the slight tremble of his tightly pursed lips or the fine tremors in his white-knuckled fists, and suddenly he knew. Jack Starbright had surely fought for him the whole time - had maybe been trying to help him in Cairo - and had met with death as a result. The Pleasures, too. They'd offered him a fresh start, but here he was again anyway.

_And he blames himself for everything._

The realization stung, his heart crumbling for this _child_ who had seen and done too much and had only received hurt in return.

"That doesn't mean you should stop trying," he pushed out around the lump in his throat. "You deserve to be happy."

Alex laughed once, short. "No, I don't. Not after -."

He had cut himself off, but Steve thought he knew how it was supposed to end. "'Not after Cairo'?" he spoke barely above a whisper.

"You don't understand," he bit out, his voice thick with emotion. _"I watched her die. _They _made me _watch, and there was nothing I could do to stop it, and you will _never _understand that."

Steve could only watch as Alex lost the fight against his grief, bowing his head as the first tear slipped away. Truth be told, Steve _did _understand - a memory of North Korea and Wo Fat and _Shelburn_ at the forefront of his mind - but he'd had time and support to get through it. Alex had experienced one death after another; he hadn't been given time to settle before being shuttled off elsewhere; he'd had no time to process and heal.

Before Steve could decide if he should hug this teenager he barely knew or if that would not be appreciated, Alex's shoulders stopped shaking and he straightened his back, wiping away the last traces of the few tears he had shed.

"I'm sorry," Alex muttered, "but please just leave it alone. I'm not worth it."

Steve felt like someone had ripped what was left of his heart out of his chest and had run it through a flour sieve just to make sure there was absolutely nothing left of it. When he spoke, his words were barely audible. "I disagree. I think they would have, too."

Alex's breathing hitched again as his head fell forward and he ran a shaking hand through his hair. "Can you leave me alone for a while, please? I won't leave; I promise. I just - I'm tired."

Steve was hesitant to agree. Not because Alex had broken his promise once already, but because he wondered if Alex should really be left alone in this state. He sighed. "Okay. It's been a long day, and it's not even over yet. But we aren't done talking about this, alright? I'll check in with my team and come back later."

Alex nodded, so he stood up and, with one last glance back through the door, left the office.

_There has to be something more I can do. There _has _to be._

* * *

Alex was _exhausted._ He slowly uncurled himself from his hunched position in the chair, his breathing still stuttering but better than even a minute ago. As soon as Commander McGarrett had left, he'd lapsed into a panic attack - hadn't bothered trying to ground himself, had just let it happen - and now he was paying the price. His lungs burned and he felt light-headed, but he forced himself up on shaking legs anyway so he could move the few steps over to the couch. He wanted nothing more than a nap now, but he also knew that wouldn't be happening in such an unfamiliar place, so just lying down for a bit would have to suffice.

As he collapsed onto the cushions, he closed his eyes, digging the heels of his hands into his eye sockets for a moment. _What was I thinking, telling him all of that?_

_Maybe he'll run away, too. That would make this easier, anyway._

He wasn't sure how long he lay staring blankly at the ceiling before he realized exactly what McGarrett had said right before he'd left: he was coming back, and they weren't done talking. He was going to get himself involved, and he was going to get himself killed in the process. Alex couldn't let that happen. He _wouldn't_ let that happen.

Pushing himself up slowly, he knew what he had to do. With a pang of guilt, he rifled through the drawers in the desk for a pen and paper. He had promised to stay put, but for the second time that day, he was going to break it. What did it really matter anyway? After today, he was never going to see Commander McGarrett or the Five-0 task force ever again. That thought filled him with an emotion he couldn't quite place. Bitterness? Regret? He didn't know, but then again, it didn't really matter; it never did.

But, he figured, the least he could do was leave a note so they wouldn't panic over him being missing again.

_Thank you for everything, and I'm sorry._

Leaving the note on the desk, he turned and walked out of the office, down the hall, out of the elevator, and through the door into the warm Hawaiian sunshine.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **On the upside of having had to do a ton more research that probably isn't even apparent, I now have a better understanding of where places are in relation to each other when I'm watching the show, lol.

Merry Christmas, ya'll!

* * *

**Chapter Five**

Alex knocked on the door to room 2026 of the Ilikai Hotel, tapping his foot impatiently against the carpeted hallway floor.

After what felt like ages, the door finally opened. "It's done then?"

"Yeah, it's done," Alex muttered, pushing his way inside. "As done as it's going to be anyway."

Agent James Branning frowned as the door clicked softly shut behind him. "What's that supposed to mean? Either it is or it isn't."

"Look, the DEA here have been onto them for months, and the Five-0 task force is involved now, too. As far as I'm concerned, we're done here."

"You know this is about more than just the drug trade. What about the men on the boat?"

"Three dead, one in the wind."

"Then it's not done, is it?"

"Five-0 will have him before along, alright? If you're so desperate to make sure, why don't _you_ go out there instead? Because I'm done." Alex sat down on the couch with a soft sigh, his head dropping back, eyes closing.

"You can rest _after_ I debrief you."

"Boat exploded. Coast Guard caught me. Ended up with Five-0. Had a panic attack," Alex ground out. "Now leave me alone."

"That's not good enough, and you know it - not to mention the irrelevant information."

"Well, clearly, I don't care."

Alex couldn't see him with his eyes closed, but he could imagine that James was pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. He did that a lot where Alex was concerned, but right now he didn't care that he was the source of the man's stress; all he wanted was a nap.

A defeated sigh, then: "Fine. Rest while you can, because I'm booking us the first flight back to the mainland. If you're lucky, I won't drop you back in Cali on my way."

He could hear the man's footsteps as he crossed the room and the click of a door closing, leaving him alone. But he didn't mind; he preferred the solitude to the agent's presence, anyway. At least he wasn't forcing Alex to go back out to finish what he started; he was booking a flight back, which meant he was accepting it as completed. The mission was over, then, and he could go home - whatever that meant. The house he lived in wasn't 'home' - not really. He didn't think it ever would be, didn't think he'd ever know what 'home' really was now.

Alex just wanted this to be over, but he knew it never truly would be. Within a couple of weeks - possibly sooner, even before the new year started - he'd be right back off again to some other odd corner of the world to do something that 'only he could'. Deep down, he knew that was a lie, yet he still believed it every time.

Two years and hundreds of lies - Alex was tired of it, but there was nothing he could do about it, either. He was stuck on a never-ending Merry-Go-Round, circle after circle. The very thought made him queasy; he'd never particularly liked carolsels, and this one, built on espionage and deception, was one he would very much like to get off of.

And, he realized with a shudder, he may well have just lost his absolute last chance to do so. Commander McGarrett had seemed to genuinely care from the get-go, and Alex had no doubt he would follow through on his offer if Alex would only let him. He shook the thought away. _No; the ones that care end up dead. It's better for everyone for me to just disappear and forget this ever happened._

* * *

Alex managed to doze for fifteen minutes or so before James was shaking him awake. "Let's go. There's a flight to LA out of Kahului late enough that if we leave now, we can still make it in time, and we'll be able to catch a connection from there to DC."

Alex sighed, heaving himself to his feet as he watched James shove his laptop into a bag and head towards the door. He didn't have anything to carry himself, and he didn't offer to carry anything for his guardian, either.

The Ilikai had been chosen for convenience; located across the street was the Ala Wai Boat Harbor in the Kahanamoku Lagoon. Somewhere in the Ala Wai, a boat was waiting to take them to Moloka'i. From Moloka'i, they would switch to another boat to continue to Maui, and then - then they'd be gone.

He obediently followed behind James as they left the hotel and crossed the road to the harbor. As they neared the dock, another man came alongside them. He nodded at James; James nodded back; no words were exchanged, and they followed him past rows and rows of boats moored there.

When his instincts, honed from years of trying not to die, told him to _duck_, Alex didn't question it. Gunshots rang out, and the man, who was supposed to be taking them off the island, fell with a grunt and lay still. Alex dove behind the nearest vessel before the man had even hit the dock, James going the opposite direction while pulling a gun from its holster.

One look from James told Alex everything: _this was his fault._ If he'd finished his job instead of handing it off, they wouldn't be taking fire with their only way off of Oahu gone. If they somehow survived this, they were still going to miss their flight - nevermind about getting there at all - and would probably have to fly out of Honolulu instead. Alex winced; this just was not his day.

Alex didn't watch as shots were exchanged, but after only a minute or so, the noise ceased. He glanced over at James, who met his gaze before cautiously moving out from his cover. Alex swallowed harshly, no small amount of trepidation and anxiety rolling in his gut. _That was too easy._

Shouts sounded from down the dock, and Alex stood up to see what the commotion was about. Before he could step out from behind the boat, however, a man jumped down from the deck, blocking Alex's path, a pistol leveled at his chest.

"Going somewhere, Rider?"

Alex swallowed. _Crap._ He'd been made, after all. Maybe he could still play dumb? "Look, I'm sorry about this morning -."

"You think _that's_ what this is about, do you? I am both surprised and a little offended you don't recognize me."

Maybe not. "I haven't forgotten," Alex stated, voice shaking. And, truly, he hadn't. The man's name was Walker, and he was part of the _real _reason Alex was in Hawaii. "Malogosto is hard to forget."

"Indeed. I really liked you, you know, so you'd better believe it when I say that this is more than just a little bit personal."

Alex heard as he pulled back the hammer. _James has to come looking eventually - just stall!_ "If you recognized me from the start, why didn't you kill me before?"

Walker shrugged. "I guess part of me hoped you'd found some sense and you really were on our side. I guess you could say I wanted to see you play your hand. But enough stalling. This ends now. You've gotten in my way for the last time."

There wasn't enough time or space to do anything now; Alex closed his eyes as he heard the gun discharge. He heard a grunt and something heavy hit the dock, but when he opened his eyes, he was still standing. His gaze snapped up to find that, just behind where Walker now lay, stood one _Commander Steve McGarrett._

At the same moment he realized that McGarrett had shot Walker, he became aware of something hot and wet trailing down his left arm. He turned his head, curious.

_Oh. That's a lot of blood._

He wasn't sure how he got there, but the next thing he knew, he was sitting on the dock, his bicep on fire while his hand was going numb. His first and dominant thought was, _that doesn't make any sense for one to be hot and the other cold, _while some part of his brain that was actually still online supplied, _you've been shot, you idiot; you're losing blood._

Calloused hands cupped his face, his eyes drifting up to meet the commander's concerned gaze.

"Alex, you gotta breathe for me, buddy. I know it hurts, but you need to breathe."

He hadn't realized he wasn't until the request had been made. As he struggled to pull in a full breath - because _why was breathing suddenly so hard _when he got hit in the _arm _\- he focused on McGarrett, the lines in the man's face easing ever-so-slightly.

"There you go. Good job. Paramedics are on the way - they should be here in a minute - but until then, I need to get that bleeding under control, okay?"

Alex felt himself nod, his eyes closing against the inevitable onslaught of more pain, and McGarrett's hands slipped from his face. A moment later, he felt pressure against his arm, the pain flaring white hot. He bit his lip to keep from crying out, but a whimper escaped unbidden anyway.

"I know, kid; I know." A hand cupped the back of his neck, the thumb moving gently up and down. "It's alright, Alex. You're going to be okay. Just breathe."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **Sorry for the delay; holidays are rough and I haven't had a lot of time. XP

* * *

**Chapter Six**

"Let me get this straight: you're planning on interrogating a spy right here on the dock?"

Steve nodded. "Yeah, that's right. Alex is still getting stitched up, and it would waste time to haul him back to the Palace."

Danny opened his mouth, closed it again, sighed, then said, "You know what? That's actually not the craziest thing you've ever said."

"Thanks… I think."

"Do you really expect him to tell you anything, though?"

"If he knows what's good for him."

"Just promise me you won't shoot him. I don't think the governor would be able to get you out of that one."

Steve stayed silent as he turned to go back down the dock to where they'd left Agent Branning under the careful supervision of Lou Grover.

"_Steven. Do not shoot that man, do you hear me?"_ Danny started after him. "You know what? I'd better just come with you because I know you, and I wouldn't put it past you."

Steve might have smiled if the situation were different. "He's complicit in the abuse of a child, Danny. So if my gun _happens_ to go off and the bullet _happens _to shatter his knee cap - well…"

Danny's hand came down hard on his shoulder, spinning him around. "Steve, listen to me. I know you're angry - you think I'm not? I keep thinking, 'what if that were Grace?' and it makes me sick to my stomach, okay? But you can't help this kid from prison. That's all I'm saying."

"I know that, Danny; I'm well aware. But I'm getting answers once and for all, and I will do whatever I need to in order to make that happen."

Danny sighed again before turning and continuing on his way.

Now a few steps behind his partner, Steve arrived just in time to hear Danny say, "You see this guy behind me? He's more than a little cranky and definitely hot-headed. So if I were you, I'd just tell him what he wants to know, because there is literally no telling what he might do if you don't - and, believe me, I've seen him do some crazy things."

"Is that supposed to scare me?"

"Just stating the facts. So if he ends up shooting you in the knee, don't say I didn't warn you."

Steve _almost _smiled as Danny stepped to the side. "What were you doing here in Hawaii?"

"Commander McGarrett, you and I both know I came for a vacation with my ward."

"Yeah, and you and I both know that's a load of crap."

Branning shrugged. "I'm afraid I can't help you."

"Ten people came down here to kill you and Alex. You can't expect me to let this go."

"Wrong place, wrong time. You know how it is," he replied with a condescending smirk.

Not even a minute had passed and Steve was already done with this. "Okay. Well, let me tell you what _I_ think, and then we'll see if you stick with that story, shall we?"

"Allow me to reintroduce myself: I am Lieutenant Commander Steven J. McGarrett, former member of SEAL team six. I've served in a lot of countries, seen a lot of action. So when there are four former drug dealers dead on my island that all have scorpion tattoos that identify them as former Scorpia assassins, that raises some questions."

Steve realized then that, although Branning worked for the CIA, he'd probably never been a field agent - or, at least, was long retired from it.

"How do you know about that? There's no way you've ever had clearance high enough."

"Yeah, well, when your team is in Afghanistan and accidentally uncovers a cell of them instead of ISIS, you kinda become privy to that information.

"So here's my theory: Alex was sent undercover to discover if these particular guys were still a threat, and if they were, to eliminate them. How'd I do?"

"That would be child abuse."

Steve felt his fist crack into the agent's face before he'd made the conscious decision to swing. He could feel the anger radiating off of Lou and Danny beside him and knew they would have loved to be the ones to do that, too. He couldn't keep the tremor out of his voice as he growled, "The fact that you can say that with a straight face is enough reason for me to want to shoot you right here, right now, and I'd bet my life Lou and Danny would testify that you went down in the shootout."

Branning spit to the side and turned his head back towards Steve, a bruise already starting to form across his cheekbone. "It's not like he was forced into it."

"And how, pray tell, does that _justify_ this? Does _any _child _choose_ to be abused?"

Branning smirked. "You can't prove a word of this, McGarrett, and you know it. Alex chose to work for the company, and he can leave any time he wants."

"Yeah, I doubt that."

"No, I mean it. Taking care of that kid is like walking around with sand in your shoes. I didn't volunteer for this, but he did - that's just the job. I'd be more than happy for someone to take him off my hands, but that's never going to happen because Alex is here because he _wants _to be."

Steve knew that was a lie; Alex had told him as much, that he'd never wanted this, but he felt trapped. But, if it was truly the case that Alex _was_ free to leave, then maybe all Steve needed to do was give him a reason.

He glanced back over his shoulder, wondering how Alex was doing. He'd seemed a little squeamish when stitches were mentioned, and Chin was with him, but honestly Steve wished he was the one sitting with the kid right now. Turning back and unclenching his jaw, he said, "Lou, take him to the station and have him booked for child abuse."

"With pleasure." Lou stepped over and hauled Branning to his feet by the arm.

Branning chuckled. "It won't stick."

"Yeah, probably not, but it _will _waste a few hours of your precious time." _And be probable enough cause for CPS to temporarily pull Alex's custody from you._

As Steve watched them walk away, Danny side-stepped closer. "What - no 'book 'im, Danno'?"

"No. It's Christmas Eve, and if we still wanna have this party, you need to get home."

"That is a very good point. You still coming?"

"Yeah - but, hey? Maybe plan for one more."

He could feel Danny staring at him before he asked, "Alex?"

"Yeah. I - uh, _really _need to have a talk with him and make a couple of calls, but…"

Danny nodded and clapped him on the shoulder as he started to leave. "Alright. I'll see you later tonight then."

_I just hope this works._

* * *

"Hey, there he is." Chin nodded in the direction of the dock.

Alex glanced up but quickly returned his gaze back down to his hands. "You think he's mad?"

"Probably - but less at you than you might think. I'm sure he's more relieved that your arm looked worse than it is."

"I broke my promise. _Again._"

"You did what you thought was best at the time. Steve will understand that."

The paramedic was just finishing wrapping his arm when Alex saw Steve's boots stop on the pavement in front of him.

"Hey. Give us a minute?"

Alex watched the medic's shoes disappear, his heart pounding in his chest. He really didn't want to have this conversation right now - or ever, really.

"Danny already took off, so can I hitch a ride with you?"

"Of course," he heard Chin reply. "Looks like I picked a good day to drive my car instead of the bike, huh? I'll wait over there; take your time."

"Thanks."

As the lieutenant's boots retreated, Alex lost his last buffer. Silence fell between them, and after a moment, Alex couldn't stand it any longer, so he blurted out the first and only thing his exhausted brain could come up with.

"I'm sorry I ruined your shirt."

He wasn't expecting the commander to burst out laughing, and his head snapped up at the sound.

"That's really what you're concerned about right now, huh?" McGarrett chuckled. "Kid, that is so low on my list of priorities right now - it's not even on the radar."

Alex watched, not knowing what to do now, as McGarrett took a couple of steps and hoisted himself to sit on the gurney next to him with a tired sigh, all humor suddenly forgotten as he stared out towards the lagoon. _Here it comes, _he thought, but when McGarrett spoke, it wasn't what he was expecting at all.

"More than five years ago now, I was sent on a black op into North Korea. I took my best buddy with me, and our goal was to extract a man named Anton Hess. The mission was a success, but I lost my friend in the process. He covered me so I could get Anton out, and if he hadn't sacrificed himself that day, we'd both be dead right now.

"But as I was transporting Hess back, our convoy got hit, and he ended up dead, too. In retaliation, Anton's brother, Victor, killed my father. In the span of a day, I lost two of the most important people in my life.

"I came back to Hawaii for my dad's funeral, and that's when the late Governor Jameson offered me this job. It started as a way to track down Victor Hess, but it turned into so much more and, as it happened, turned out to be exactly the change that I needed." He paused, finally turning to face Alex. It was easy to see the sincerity and conviction burning in his eyes.

"I'm not going to pretend to know exactly how you feel, but I understand what it's like to have the people you love killed and to not be able to do anything to prevent it. I know… I know what it's like to have your world ripped apart, and how it feels to think nothing is ever going to be okay again, to throw yourself into something - _anything -_ just to have a reason to keep going.

"But eventually you have to stop running. You have to let yourself heal. And you can't do that by just ignoring it and adding more trauma on top of what you already have.

"It's okay to let yourself heal, and if you can't get there on your own, it's okay to ask for help."

Alex couldn't stand it any longer. He turned his gaze away, throat tight with emotion, focusing instead on where he was twisting his hands in his lap. After a moment, he choked out, "Lieutenant Kelly told me about how you recruited your team. Detective Williams was struggling to adjust to life here after a messy divorce; Lieutenant Kelly himself was a disgraced cop; Officer Kalakaua wasn't even out of the academy yet; Captain Grover was forced into early retirement from SWAT. But none of those things mattered to you. You always seem to show up in people's lives when they need someone the most. Do you think that's true for me too?"

McGarrett was quiet for a moment before he spoke softly, "I don't know, but it's worth a shot to find out, don't you think? All you have to do is say the word, Alex, and I promise you I'm not gonna leave you alone. I'll be there every step of the way."

Alex tried to cut off the sob building in his chest but then decided he didn't care anymore. He was exhausted and injured; that should give him a free pass to be as emotional as he wanted. As the tears started to fall, he felt a hand settle, heavy and reassuring, between his shoulder blades. Alex let himself have a minute before he pulled himself back together enough to give a shaky nod and a whispered, "please."

"Consider it done."

Alex took a shaky, deep breath, swiping a hand over his cheeks. "What - uhm, what exactly does this mean?" He glanced up at the man.

McGarrett smiled down at him. "It means it's time to burn some ships of our own."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **Special thanks to everyone who has read this far, reviewed, followed, and/or favorited! I honestly wasn't expecting anyone to read this, but here ya'll are, lol. One more chapter to go!

A disclaimer that I know pretty much nothing about how the foster system works, but in times like these, I go back to Danny's wise words to Lou: "He always gets what he wants." I'm sure the same would apply here, lol.

If you liked this, be sure to check out SilverLightRaita's _Crashing and Saving _over on AO3! That is the fic that 100% inspired this one and opened my eyes to the possibilities!

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

"Hey, Danny. I don't think we're going to make it tonight after all."

Alex couldn't help but eavesdrop from where he lay on the sofa, guilt settling in his gut. Commander McGarrett had been upstairs for a while, but now it sounded like he was out in the kitchen. He didn't remember hearing the man come down, so he must have dozed off; Alex wished he could actually fall asleep like he longed to do.

"Yeah, he's asleep on the couch. Can't really blame him for crashing; it's been quite a day."

He had no idea how long he'd been laying there, but it had been long enough, apparently. The numbing agent they'd given him while getting stitched up had worn off, leaving behind a dull, burning ache. It didn't really _hurt, _per se, but it _was _uncomfortable.

"It wasn't hard. I just told them he's a witness in a case and offered to keep him in protective custody. It's Christmas Eve - you really think they'd argue? Someone's gonna swing by on the twenty-sixth, but with any luck…"

Alex frowned. McGarrett had said he wasn't going to abandon him, but now that Alex thought about it, he didn't actually know what that was going to look like. The future had never seemed so uncertain.

"Yeah, we'll try to swing by sometime tomorrow, but I can't make any promises. I'd better let you go, though - get back to the party. Wish everyone a merry Christmas for me."

The guilt swirling in his gut rose in his throat at the realization that McGarrett was missing out because of him. Would he ever stop ruining people's lives by simply existing?

The couch cushion dipped near his hip, and a moment later calloused but gentle fingers combed through his hair. He couldn't help but lean into it a little.

"Hey, buddy. Food's ready. Think you can wake up long enough to eat?"

Instead of answering, and without bothering to open his eyes, Alex murmured, "'m sorry."

"What for?"

"You're missing the party because of me."

A soft laugh. "Yeah, well… I know I said this morning that this is an annual thing, but the truth is, it's really not. We plan it every year, but you'd be surprised how many times we've ended up working so it just didn't happen. And that's okay. Sometimes other things are more important - like the teenager asleep on your couch after getting shot. You know, the usual."

Alex finally cracked his eyes open to find that the only light in the room now was what streamed out of the kitchen. But even in the dim light, he could tell McGarrett was smiling. He huffed, sparing a grin of his own. "Yeah, I'm sure today was a totally normal day at the office."

"You might be surprised. Crazy things happen a lot around here." McGarrett stood up. "So anyway, I've got homemade pizza out in the kitchen. What do you say we get some before it gets cold and put on a movie or something?"

Alex nodded as he pushed himself up with his good arm; even keeping his weight on his right, he couldn't help but wince at the unwelcome pressure on his left. "Okay."

Commander McGarrett's smile turned sympathetic. "And maybe get you something for your arm."

Now that he was sitting up, the injury was throbbing a good bit more than it had been. "Yeah, that definitely sounds good, too. Thank you."

_For everything, _he wanted to add, but judging by the look on the commander's face, he already knew.

* * *

Steve was pulled from his slumber by the incessant vibrating of his phone against a hard surface, and he couldn't help but pray to every known deity that it wasn't work-related. Eyes still closed, he fumbled around the top of the table beside him and finally picked up the device just as it went to voicemail.

Peeling back his eyelids, he discovered he was still in the living room, late morning sunlight streaming through the windows, with his feet kicked up on the coffee table and one teenaged boy curled up under his arm, face smushed into his hip bone.

_That can_not _be comfortable, _he thought as he brought his phone to life.

**One missed call - Danny Williams**

No doubt wondering if they were coming over since a glance at the time told Steve it was after nine already. Rather than risk waking Alex, he shot his partner a text, complete with photo evidence of why he was choosing not to call.

A moment later, Danny responded: _That cannot be comfortable. Poor kid must really be out of it. Dinner's at 1. We won't wait unless you tell me otherwise then._

Steve tipped his head back against the couch, gaze wandering down to where Alex lay, still peacefully oblivious. The kid had made it all the way through _It's a Wonderful Life_ and _the Santa Clause_ before losing the fight halfway through _the Polar Express. _Steve had been surprised he'd made it that long with how exhausted he'd seemed. He knew he'd have to wake Alex eventually, but a little longer wouldn't hurt anything.

The peaceful silence only lasted a few minutes longer before Alex stirred, slowly blinking his eyes open, brow furrowed slightly like he wasn't quite sure where he was yet.

"Morning, Alex. You slept a long time."

He slowly rolled onto his back with a grunt and a yawn, his eyes sliding shut again.

Not completely awake then. That was fine, though; there really wasn't any rush, so Steve would let him wake up when he was ready.

The silence settled comfortably around them again, and Steve thought maybe Alex had dozed off, but after a moment, Alex muttered into the quiet, "I haven't slept that well in a long time."

That was… _concerning_ to say the least. But Alex _had_ copped to having nightmares already; maybe that was all he meant. "You usually don't sleep well, huh?"

Alex shrugged. "Bad insomnia mostly, and when I _do _sleep it's always...disturbed, so."

Steve winced; he knew exactly how that felt. For the longest time, he had pushed down everything that had happened with the Hess brothers, but when he couldn't anymore, he'd been subjected to the same sleep patterns. It wasn't fun.

Alex finally sat up, scrubbing the grit from his eyes. "I - uhm, I overheard you on the phone with Detective Williams last night. I'm sorry for eavesdropping, but you should go. Don't let me keep you here."

He hadn't been expecting _that_ to be the second topic of conversation for the morning, but he asked the question he'd been planning to, anyway. "Do you feel up to going?"

Alex looked up, clearly startled. "What?"

"Do you feel up to going?" Steve repeated. "Because I'm not going without you."

"Why not?"

"Well," he sighed, "we've always kind of had this thing between us - Danny and I. As you already know, Danny is divorced, which means he only gets his kids for Christmas every other year. Since I don't have any family on the island, it kind of became this unspoken thing - that no one should have to spend Christmas alone. And Danny - he's got Grace and Charlie this year, so… It's entirely up to you if you want to go over there or not, but I'm not leaving you here alone, either."

"I'd be intruding…"

"No, you wouldn't. In fact, Grace would probably be thrilled to have someone else her own age around."

Alex studied him intently for a moment before turning away with a nod. "Okay. Then, let's go."

"You're sure?"

"I want to."

"Okay." Steve smiled. "I know they'll be happy to see you."

* * *

Steve fell into bed that night tired but content. He honestly hadn't been sure how Alex would do, but he needn't have worried at all.

"_Hey, Charlie! Merry Christmas, buddy!" Steve stooped over to pick up the boy, and Charlie instantly clung to him like a koala._

"_Merry Christmas, Uncle Steve! Who's that?"_

_Steve turned to smile at the teen still standing awkwardly by the door. _"That_ is Alex. He's going to be spending Christmas with us. Is that okay?"_

"_Yes."_

"_Good." Steve chuckled as Charlie squirmed back out of his arms and marched up to Alex, completely unafraid._

"_Do you like legos?"_

_Alex floundered for only a second before he replied, "Uhm, yeah. Yeah, I guess."_

"_Come on." Charlie reached up and grabbed his hand. "Grace was building with me, but now she's helping Danno, so you can help me instead."_

And that had been that. Steve had watched them for a moment, but almost as soon as they'd started, the tension had drained from Alex's shoulders, and Steve had headed for the kitchen, confident they'd be okay by themselves for a bit.

As it turned out, they had been more than okay. Within the hour, it was apparent that Charlie had dubbed Alex his best friend for the day. He had insisted on sitting next to the teen at dinner, and when they'd made gingerbread houses that afternoon, Alex was the only one allowed to help him.

Neither Steve nor Danny could figure out exactly how that had happened, so later that evening, as they were settling in to watch a movie, Danny had asked.

"_You seem to be pretty good friends with Alex already, huh, buddy?"_

_Charlie nodded. "Yes. He needed a friend."_

_Danny smiled. "You think so?"_

_Charlie nodded again, his face completely serious. "Yes. So I thought I could be his friend."_

_Steve chuckled. "I think you made a good choice, buddy - a very good choice."_

_Charlie nodded a third time. "I think so too."_

As soon as Alex had come back from the bathroom and sat down, Charlie had plopped down in his lap as the opening credits of _How the Grinch Stole Christmas_ rolled. It wasn't a long movie, but by the end, Steve could tell Alex was starting to drift so they hadn't stayed long after Charlie was put to bed.

As soon as they'd gotten home, Alex had headed to bed as well; his arm had started to bother him again though he'd been fine most of the day, so Steve had quickly checked it, rewrapped it, and had given him ibuprofen before he crashed.

It had been a good day, and Steve hoped it would be another good night as well.

* * *

Alex woke to bright sunlight streaming in through the gaps in the blinds, feeling surprisingly well-rested. He had startled awake around three o'clock but had obviously managed to fall back asleep. Frowning, he stared up at the ceiling for several moments before rolling out of bed. He hadn't slept this well since before his uncle's death; why was it suddenly so easy now?

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he found Commander McGarrett sitting at the dining table, sipping at a cup of coffee with his work tablet in front of him. If he was working, Alex didn't want to interrupt, but he also knew he would feel awkward rooting around in the man's kitchen to find something to eat; he didn't live here, after all. Debating his next move, he stood there, one hand still on the railing, for who knew how long before the commander looked up and saw him.

"Morning, Alex. Sleep alright?"

Finding his feet again, he moved towards the table. "Yeah, thanks. Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you."

"You're not. Besides, it's paperwork; you can interrupt that any time you want, and I will thank you for it." McGarrett stood up. "Let's get you some breakfast."

"No, no!" Alex was quick to protest, holding his hands up in front of him. "You don't need to do that."

"Do what? Feed you? Because I'm gonna have to disagree with you there."

"No - just - I can do it myself. You don't have to get up."

McGarrett took a sip from his mug before speaking again. "Is that why you were standing there for a solid minute not moving? Because you didn't want to bother me?"

_Dang it._ He'd been made from the start. But the commander had been nothing short of hospitable - more than, honestly - up until this point, and Alex didn't want to put him to extra work. "There's still pizza in the fridge, right? I'll just eat that."

The commander raised an eyebrow. "You're going to eat pizza for breakfast? You'd really prefer that to - I don't know - scrambled eggs?"

Alex had to admit that sounded good, but… "I mean, it has Canadian bacon on it - that's technically a breakfast food."

McGarrett snorted, sitting back down in his chair. "Alright, have it your way. I'll just go back to my exceptionally boring paperwork."

Sighing in relief, Alex stepped around the corner into the kitchen, grabbed a couple of slices from the fridge and dropped them on a plate, then returned to the table and sat across from McGarrett. "So, when do you suppose CPS is going to show up?" he asked, taking a bite from the first slice.

"Hm?" McGarrett glanced up, pausing in his typing. "Oh, the lady was already here - eight o'clock on the dot, as a matter of fact."

Alex's brain stuttered. "Then why am I still here? I thought…"

The commander folded the screen over the attached keyboard, giving Alex his full attention. "You thought you were gonna be shuffled off to another foster home?"

"I assumed - I mean -." Alex cut himself off as the realization hit him. He was staying here?

"I'm petitioning for your custody. It didn't work in California to be shuffled around, so why would it work any better out here? At least, that was my reasoning. You need to be someplace where you'll have time to settle and, Alex, I won't lie: that can take _months_ \- especially given what you've been through. And if no one is willing to give you longer than a week, then you'll just end up right back where you started. I can't promise I'll even be a good guardian, but if there's one thingI _can_ give you, it's _time."_

He sighed. "Look, I'm not going to force you to stay with me if you don't want to, but you should know that if you choose to leave, I'll still be here for you, okay? You can always come to me if you need something or if you have a problem. I told you I wasn't going to leave you on your own, and I meant it. Okay?"

Alex steeled himself, heart in his throat, to ask the question he was most afraid to hear the answer to. "What about Agent Branning? He could contest this, couldn't he?"

McGarrett nodded. "Yeah, he could, but I don't think he will. Even if he does fight it, I'll fight back twice as hard, and I'll _keep_ fighting until it happens."

Alex let out a shuddering breath. He had so many questions he wanted to ask. "Don't you have to be, like, certified to foster though?"

"Also yes, but you let me worry about that, alright? You don't need to worry about a thing; just leave it all to me."

Alex swallowed harshly. He was _not _going to start crying _again, _dang it. But there was one last thing he had to know. "Why are you doing this? It's just… it's a lot, and you barely know me."

"Honestly? It was the best way I could think of to get you out. I told you it's time to burn some ships of your own, right? The idea behind that phrase is to move forward with no chance of going back to where you were. So if you don't want to be a part of that work any longer, then I'm going to do everything I can to make sure you don't feel like you have to be."

Alex let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Okay." His voice was shaky, but he was holding back the tears so he considered that an accomplishment, at least. What had he done to deserve this kindness? Absolutely nothing. He had lied and broken his promises and run away. Yet Commander McGarrett was giving of himself so freely anyway.

After a pause, McGarrett asked, "So, I take it this arrangement is good, then? You're good? We're good?"

Alex smiled and let out a breathy laugh. "Yeah. Yeah, we're good."

"Good." He flipped the tablet screen back up again. "Eat your very strange breakfast, then we'll talk more, alright?"

In response, Alex picked his slice back up and took a bite out of it, feeling like maybe he would finally be able to rest for the first time since his uncle's death.

Maybe there was hope for the future after all.


	8. Epilogue

**A/N:** I never dreamed this story would be this popular, so thank you all so much! But now we've reached the end. I hope you enjoy the final chapter! (I have no excuse for this taking so long except for who I am as a person, meaning "I started reading the _Power of Five _series, and I can't even" lol.)

This started out as completely self-indulgent fluff (with some angst because I can't control myself apparently) because it's what they deserve, but honestly now it's just self-indulgent. Still some fluff but much angstier than I intended, lol. Most of the _real_ fluff got cut because it got too long, unfortunately (this is still one of the longest chapters, and I didn't even write half of what I had planned, ahahahaha). You've been warned. :P

((I may someday write more in this verse because I love it but also I have ideas that didn't make the cut for this chapter and I would still like to write them, lol.))

**Content warnings:** A panic attack, mentions of a nightmare and trauma, vomiting (nothing graphic by any means, but…)

* * *

**Epilogue**

_February_

"I'm sorry." Alex's elbows hit the countertop, his head falling into his hands. "I didn't mean - I'm sorry."

"Alex. It's okay. I'm not angry. This isn't your fault."

He didn't look up. There was glass shattered on the floor now because he'd failed to control his temper. He had lashed out, and now something - he didn't even know what - was broken, and why had he even been angry, anyway? He couldn't remember, but it definitely _was_ his fault, and he had no idea why Steve was saying it wasn't. "Sure seems like it is."

A tired sigh. Alex knew what he would find if he looked up, so he didn't bother. This situation was all-too familiar, and one of these times Steve was going to get tired of him - just like everyone else had. Honestly, it was a miracle he'd lasted this long.

"Look at me, please, buddy."

He didn't want to.

Another sigh, then: "Alright, just listen, okay? There are three things in play right now, and _none _of them are your fault. The first is the amount of trauma you've been through the last couple of years. The second is that you're sixteen, which means raging hormones. The third is that you're still trying to settle in here - transition into a new life. Any one of those by itself would be hard enough, but you have to deal with _all three_ at the same time." A pause. "Mood swings are gonna happen - that's just a fact. But it's not always going to be this bad. It's gonna get better, but you need to be patient with yourself because it's going to take _time_. Remember? You need to give yourself time."

Alex finally straightened up and turned to face Steve, almost still surprised to find nothing but concern and kindness etched on his face where Alex had been sure would be nothing but irritation. "How long, Steve?" he begged, frustration bleeding into every word. "Because it's been almost two months, and I'm still just -." He cut himself off, looking away, his gaze catching on the mess on the floor. "I'm still just _broken,"_ he finally muttered.

"Yeah. You are."

His head whipped up, eyes wide. Surely he hadn't heard that right?

A smile ghosted over Steve's lips. "But so am I. You, me, Chin, Kono, Lou, Danny… We all are. There's nothing wrong with being broken as long as you pick up the pieces. Even then, you won't be the same as you were. But that's okay. No one expects you to be."

Alex didn't know what to say, what to think about that statement. He'd never considered that maybe it was okay to be damaged.

Maybe it was enough just to try.

* * *

_March_

"_Steve, it's three o'clock in the morning. This has _better_ be important."_

Steve glanced at the clock. "Sorry, Danny. I honestly hadn't realized the time. I might have...panicked. Just a little."

"_What's wrong?"_

His partner sounded a bit more awake now, at least. He took a deep breath. "What do you do with a puking teenager?"

A startled laugh. _"What? Okay, let me get this straight: you called me in the middle of the night because Alex is sick and you don't know what to do?"_

Steve swallowed his pride. "Basically, yeah. Look, the only person I have experience taking care of while ill is myself. You have kids - more specifically, you have a teenager - so please just tell me what I'm supposed to do right now."

Danny's next words were - thankfully, mercifully - serious. _"I take it that, since you called in a panic, he is currently, at this moment, throwing up?"_

"I'm...actually not sure. I just heard him make a run for it. He hasn't gone back to bed yet, though."

A sigh. _"Okay, first things first - go in there so at least you can assess the damage, and he'll know that you know so he doesn't try to hide it in the morning. He'll probably be embarrassed but also grateful. If he's not ready to go back to bed yet, sit with him until he is, and make sure he drinks something once his stomach has settled a little. In the middle of the night, that's about all there is to it."_

Steve let out a breath. "I think I can handle that…"

"_I would hope so."_

"Thanks, Danny."

"_Yeah, I'm going back to sleep. Try to save any other questions for daylight hours. Now go take care of your kid."_

"Yeah. Goodnight." He pulled the phone from his ear to hang up, but Danny had beat him to it. Slipping it into the pocket of his sweatpants, he quietly made his way down the hall.

He gently knocked twice on the slightly ajar door before he pushed it open. Alex was on his knees beside the toilet, forehead resting on his arm against the seat, breathing heavily. He didn't look up as Steve entered. "Hey, buddy. _Really_ not feeling great now, huh?"

Alex let out a huff as Steve knelt down beside him, hand instinctively falling between his shoulder blades and rubbing in slow, gentle circles. "You could say that."

Alex's voice came out shaky, and Steve didn't even bother asking if he was ready to go back to bed; his pinched expression, eyes squeezed shut, and labored breathing were answer enough.

Not a minute had passed since Steve had come in when Alex tensed then jolted back up over the toilet as he gagged. Steve winced as he felt the muscles contracting under his hand as the poor kid heaved. Judging from the sound, there wasn't much left to even bring up, and if there was one thing worse than vomiting, Steve thought, it was dry heaving.

He wasn't sure where the words were coming from - long buried memories of Dorris fussing over him, maybe - but he started murmuring reassurances anyway. "It's alright, Alex. Shhh. Just breathe through it. That's it."

After a minute or so, Alex finally dropped his head back down to rest on the toilet seat, with a horsley muttered, "This sucks."

Steve couldn't help but grin a little. "Yeah, I'll bet it does, buddy. I'll bet it does."

* * *

_June_

"Hey, there you are."

Alex turned his head but didn't get up from his chair, wind off the ocean whipping his hair around wildly. "Hey."

Steve sat down in the other chair, a crease forming between his eyebrows. "Looks like you're about due for a haircut."

Alex shrugged, resting his chin back on his knees. "I don't mind it."

Steve chose not to say anything, turning to look out at the waves. Six months had passed and yet Steve still had a hard time figuring the kid out sometimes; was what Alex just said the truth or did he not want to 'inconvenience' Steve with the price of the service? He would tackle that another day, though; there were other things they needed to talk about right now.

"Doing okay?" Steve always asked when he came home; Alex always answered honestly. That had been the arrangement for a while now; Alex was struggling to settle in still, and Steve couldn't do anything to help if he didn't know. "This isn't exactly prime sitting outside weather, after all." It wasn't, truly; the sky was overcast, and the temperature was unseasonably cool. While it wasn't unusual to find Alex outside, on a day like today? That was questionable, and Steve got the feeling Alex wasn't having a great day.

"I don't know." Alex shrugged. "Just kind of restless, I guess. Needed to get out of the house."

Steve nodded; that wasn't the worst answer he'd ever gotten _by far._ "Yeah, you are here by yourself most of the time. That can happen." He paused. "That - uh, that kind of brings me to something I've been meaning to talk to you about, actually."

"Oh?" Alex tilted his head so his cheek rested on his knee instead of his chin, his gaze meeting Steve's again.

Steve knew Alex would balk at the idea before he'd even started, but he had to try. Alex couldn't stay cooped up in the house for the rest of his life; he needed to get out and _live._ "I know the last six months have been rough, but I think it's time you at least _start_ thinking about going back to a public school. You don't need to decide right now; I just want you to think about it, okay? If you decide you don't want to or you're not ready, that's fine. I don't have a problem with this whole homeschool thing we've got going on now. But honestly, Alex, it might actually help. Going to school is _normal._ Something that's always been a constant might help you adjust."

Alex sat up straighter and stared down at his bare feet. "I won't fit in. I'm too different from them. They'll ask too many questions I can't answer."

"Maybe so." Steve sighed. "I'm not gonna force you, but seriously consider it, alright?"

Alex nodded. "Fine. I will."

"That's all I'm asking for." Steve stood with a small smile. "I'm gonna go start dinner."

As he headed for the house, he already knew Alex would make the decision that was best for himself, whatever that might be.

* * *

_September_

Alex nervously followed behind the officer. Steve had told him he was always welcome to drop in at the Palace, but this was the first time he'd taken up that offer. If they were busy, he didn't want to interrupt or be in the way, but it was actually important this time.

Chin was the first to see him as he stepped through the door. "Well, this is a surprise. Hey, Alex." He turned to the officer. "Thanks for bringing him up."

As the officer walked away, Lou said, "If you're looking for Steve, he's not here. He and Danny are in a meeting with the governor. Should be back before long, though."

"Was there something you needed?" Kono asked. "I think this is the first time you've been in without Steve.

"Not really." He grabbed onto the straps of his backpack to keep from fidgeting. "It's nothing, and I'm sure you're busy with a case anyway. I don't want to interrupt."

Lou shrugged. "Nope. Been a slow day."

"And I doubt it's nothing," Chin added. "It's obviously _something_ if you made the trip down here instead of calling or waiting until Steve got home tonight. So what's up?"

Alex gnawed on his bottom lip. He didn't want to bother them with this when he was most likely just being paranoid. It was one thing to talk to Steve and entirely another to bring in the rest of Five-0.

Kono must have sensed his hesitation because she said, "Alex, you know you can talk to us, right? You're _ohana._ If something's going on, we _want _to help you."

_Ohana._ What did that even mean, really? _Family,_ but they weren't related in any way. He didn't seem to fit. But since Steve wasn't here, maybe it wouldn't hurt? He sighed and, after another moment, nodded. "Okay, but it probably really is nothing." He pulled out his phone as he stepped closer. Opening his photos, he set it down on the table so the other three could see it. "These two guys have been sitting outside the school everyday for the past two weeks. They never pick anyone up, and no one ever goes over to talk to them, either. They sit there for about an hour after the final bell, and then they drive away. It's just...weird. And kind of creepy."

Chin moved his phone to connect it to the holotable. "Do you have any more photos?"

"Yeah, just swipe right. I took one of the plates on the car, too."

"Atta boy," Lou grinned, clapping him on the back. "Good work. Let's see if we can get an ID on these creeps."

Alex was momentarily floored at the response. They weren't writing him off; they weren't laughing or mocking. "You're...taking this seriously."

Chin's hands hovered over the table for a moment before he turned to face Alex fully. "You thought we wouldn't?"

Alex shrugged. "People usually don't."

Chin turned back with a smile. "Like Kono said: you're _ohana_ now. Better get used to it, because we aren't going anywhere anytime soon."

Alex smiled back. For once someone _actually _had his back. It was a nice feeling - one he thought he definitely wouldn't mind getting used to.

* * *

_December_

His lungs felt like they were filled with lead as he desperately tried to pull in another breath, his whole body shaking with the effort. The strong arms around him tightened ever-so-slightly, one hand sliding up to cradle the the back of his head, as if knowing if they didn't hold him together then he'd crumble into ash.

_They do know,_ he realized with a start. _Steve does know._ Because they'd been in this same position a million times already this year.

Alex's fingers involuntarily tightened their grip on Steve's shirt as another wave of panic hit, blinding his senses, making it impossible to get his lungs to function. He could hear Steve talking, but he couldn't seem to make sense of any of it. The blood was rushing in his ears, and every instinct was telling him to run, and he couldn't make heads or tails of anything. So he latched on to the one thing he could find outside the chaos in his head: the thrumming of a heart that wasn't his. Alex's own was rapid and hammering; the one he could feel against his temple was calm and steady.

He forced himself to focus on that rhythm - it was all the proof he needed that he was safe. Another living person right beside him meant he wasn't strapped down in Cairo or drowning in Cornwall. He was _safe._ He was _okay._ Because there was someone with him.

Steve's words started to filter through the fray: "Try to breathe with me, Alex. Everything's going to be okay. You're safe, buddy; you're safe."

Reality came back in small doses. A nightmare. 4:41am. An impending panic attack sending him straight to Steve. Collapsing to the hardwood floor beside the man's bed.

The floor, where he was currently curled up half in Steve's lap, head pressed into his sternum, fingers twisted in a white-knuckled grip in the back of his t-shirt. Steve's arms were secure around him, one hand still at the back of his head, the other following a slow path up and down his spine.

He forced his focus to the hand on his back, knowing its purpose from repetition. His breaths were erratic and shallow; the motion was a breathing pattern for him to try to follow. His chest ached, but he did his best to match it anyway; he knew he needed to - that it would get easier even though it felt impossible now.

"There you go, buddy; that's it. You're doing great."

As the muscles in his chest slowly loosened and he could breathe more normally - albeit shakily - again, he let his thoughts wander.

When had he become so comfortable with this arrangement that it had become second nature to run to Steve when he started to panic? The first time he'd had a panic attack in front of the man, he'd pushed him away, embarrassed, unwilling to let him help. He had managed to keep them a secret for an entire month, and Alex had thought Steve would be angry when he found out. But he hadn't been. He'd understood. Since then, they had talked about triggers and what helped and what didn't. And, at first, it had been weird to let Steve help him, but now…

Now it was _comfortable._

"How you doing, Alex?" The softly spoken question brought him back to the present.

Alex shifted slightly. He knew what Steve was asking, but all the same, he couldn't help but let his thoughts wander back over the previous year. Once, he had thought that he'd never get to truly know what _home _felt like; he had thought he'd never have another _family._ But now he thought maybe he did.

Maybe _this _was _home._

Maybe _this_ was _family._

If it was, Alex knew he never wanted to let it go.

"Good," he rasped. "I'm good."

* * *

"**This is my family. I found it all on my own. It's little and broken, but still good. **

**Yeah, still good."**

**-Lilo and Stitch**


End file.
